[Fanfiction] Fracture - Chapter 9 (1)
PROLOGUE: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/fZAXxjHA-fanfiction-fracture PREVIOUS CHAPTER: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/9OfywUzq-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-8-1
Fanfiction.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10770866/1/Fracture
Genres: Suspense/Drama/Mystery/a lot of others Characters: Leona, Caitlyn, Nasus, Kassadin, too many to list
Summary: The machine that sustains the lethal matches of the League fails. Events spiral outwards. (Character death.)
Note: Thanks to word limitations I have to separate this chapter into two parts as well.
CONFRONTATION
"It's refueled and repaired, but if you damage it again, it could be beyond help!"
He bowed his head at the little yordle bounding around him, rising from the chair. The bitter taste of familiar vapors settled on his tongue, and he could feel the chamber of his mask fill with gas.
"Thank you," said the Void Walker. "Once more, I am indebted to you."
"Indeed you are!" he cried, wagging a wrench at him. "Calling me all the way out into the mountains for this. I have very important affairs underway in Piltover."
Kassadin sighed, adjusting the tubes coiled around him as he tried to shift the canisters back into their usual position.
"I did not want to risk the time running short," he explained, voice soft so as to reduce his characteristic, harsh echo. "It was safer for you to meet me halfway."
Heimerdinger clicked his tongue, not even looking up from where he was noisily putting his tools away. "I know that very well, Void Walker, but you do realize how imperative it is I return to Piltover at once? The city must be fortified – if the Voidborn attack while we are still weak from terrorism, the results could be disastrous!"
"I am well aware," he replied evenly, moving with light footsteps over to a nearby table where he had left bits and bobs of his armor. "You are free to return immediately, if you so desire, professor."
"And leave you to mishandle my contraption right out the door?" The yordle dashed behind him, and Kassadin could feel the pull as he flipped down the small lever under the canisters with a hop. "That is an extremely complex cocktail of regenerative chemicals and if you do not set the pressure regulator on the results could be disastrous!"
"As you are so fond of saying," he muttered under his breath.
"It's been years since I fit that device to you and I still have to remind you. You must be more careful with this equipment!" scolded Heimerdinger, returning to his packing.
"Rest easy, professor. I will be."
"Hm-hm! I hope so," he huffed, crossing his arms. It was incredible how touchy the scatter-brained inventor could get when it came to any of his creations. "I take my leave. Do take care of yourself, Void Walker. It seems to me that Valoran is going to need you."
"I sincerely hope it won't," sighed Kassadin, closing his eyes very briefly. "But I will do as you say."
"Good," said the yordle with a decisive nod, and he took up his toolbox and bounded off with that peculiar, swaggering walk of his.
He waited until he heard the door shut to begin pulling on the armor he had shed.
It wasn't that he didn't respect the Revered Inventor – because he did. In fact, he was quite fond of the yordle. After all, he owed him his life, and their occasional meetings had always been an interesting reprieve from his usual business.
It was just that Heimerdinger was so difficult to be around when he was stressed, and Kassadin could only tolerate so much of his nitpicking. He knew that it was an incredibly critical time in Piltover, what with the current state of Valoran, and the Institute of War. Getting called away for a personal matter – no matter how related it was to the crisis at hand – must have been incredibly vexing, especially having to be so discrete about it.
No matter what, however, the Void Walker could not afford to reveal his weakness.
Most assumed that the influence of the Void within him was held at bay simply by force of will – that he had absorbed its alien power and was fighting an everyday battle to resist it. In reality, this was only partly true. The Void's influence was indeed an incredibly strong force inside him; an aching, pulsating grasp on his insides whose call he had long disciplined himself to resist. It was more the fact that the power that had infected him was eating him from inside out that posed a problem.
Kassadin slipped his hand through one gauntlet, making a fist as he pulled it secure. He looked down on his scarred palm, his calloused fingers, the skin pale blue, the nails black. By now, he was more or less a dead man walking. He had heard the whispers behind his back down long corridors, but they were wrong; a part of him didn't die when he let the Void in – all of him was constantly dying.
The only things keeping him alive were the canisters on his back, the gas flooding into his mouth and nose and filling his lungs. The "complex cocktail of regenerative chemicals," as Heimerdinger so called it, was constantly renewing his cells, keeping his body on the edge of life. If it were to ever be depleted, he doubted he would live an hour beyond his last breath of it. The Void had gifted him with incredible powers, but its strength threatened to consume him entirely.
He was tired. He was so, so tired, and on certain days where the world seemed exceptionally bleak and another one of his followers had perished to the cause, he had placed a hand on his mask and considered ending it. It would be so simple, so easy to tear it off and die breathing fresh air.
But then he would remember – there was so much left for him to do – and he would decide: he wouldn't die yet. He couldn't.
Malzahar had made another move at last, after that catastrophic encounter so many years ago where his last precious thing in this world had been taken from him. The Voidborn had been set loose from the Institute of War, and Kassadin could count the hours until chaos would erupt. He had already gotten in contact with the Kinkou, already mobilized his followers, already set his pieces into place – but he was still so far behind the Prophet. The damned seer was always several steps ahead, the Void Walker knew it, and he knew that Malzahar knew he knew it too. It was just another part of their never ending game of cat and mouse.
Kassadin pushed open the door to the borrowed hut, abandoned in the mountains. The sun was high. The light was harsh.
It was time for their game to end.
.
.
.
He hadn't known what he'd been expecting when he'd heard the name "Voodoo Lands," but it certainly hadn't been anything this... homey. There was a whole settlement out here, little houses and all.
"I guess Mommy and Daddy are still gone," she said, fishing a key out of her pocket and unlocking the door. He wondered if Annie kept it with her all the time. "I don't think they'll be mad if I have friends over."
It was a strangely idyllic cottage. The Secret Weapon would have thought that with a daughter like Annie, her parents would have opted out of the temptingly flammable thatch roof, but no – it was there, along with the charming, fairy tale brickwork. There was even a little picket fence.
"Come in, silly!" called the Dark Child from the doorway. He hadn't noticed he was the only one still outside.
Zac trudged in slowly, minding his head. The ceiling was particularly low, but he supposed he should have figured as much. The furniture inside seemed like it was themed to look as comfortable and family-friendly as possible. The sheer cosiness of its arrangement – fireplace, rocking chair, bookshelf, rug and everything – was insurmountable. It was like a scene pulled straight out of a children's book.
Except, of course, it was Annie's living room.
Lulu was already settling herself into a huge armchair, bouncing on the oversized cushion. Amumu had followed the Dark Child into the kitchen. Zac peered around the corner into the doorway, watching as the little girl climbed up onto a stool and pulled open the fridge.
"You have electricity out here?" he asked, disbelievingly.
"Are we not supposed to?" she replied, blinking once. She continued her rummaging through the fridge.
"How old's that food?"
"A few weeks. Maybe months." Annie shrugged, taking out a carton of milk. She looked over her shoulder at Amumu, shaking it. "D'you want some?"
"Yes, please!" He nodded eagerly, hands clasped together.
"Hang on a minute there," cut in Zac, snatching the carton out of her hands.
"Hey!"
He paid her no mind, opening it up and taking a whiff. Smelled fine – but then, he remembered - he didn't have a nose. The Secret Weapon took a quick sip.
"Ew!" she cried, scrabbling at him to get at the carton. "That's bad manners, Mr. Zac!"
It tasted fine too. How could food this old be A-okay? Milk tended to go bad in a few weeks, from his experience. Then again, until not so long ago he'd been living in a sewer...
"Just makin' sure it wasn't poisoned, kid," he told her, handing it back. "There you go."
"It's not," she said, matter-of-factly. "Nobody gets in the house unless they're me or my mommy and daddy."
"What about us?" asked the mummy, bewildered.
"Well, I let you in," explained Annie, rifling through some cabinets.
Zac paid little mind to their conversation, opening up the fridge to take a look. It was practically stuffed with food – and all in perfect condition. No normal fridge functioned like that, he knew from experience. Curiously, he peered around at its back. Embedded in a kind of circuit around the back of the refrigerator were small, minor arcane crystals.
"It's powered by magic," he murmured to himself, in realization. "I didn't even know you could do that."
"Oh, that?" she said, noticing his interest in the fridge. When he turned to look, she had a cup full of milk and a little, white moustache. "Mommy bought it from some selling people, but she said she didn't like it and that's why she made it pretty."
"Custom-made, huh?" The Secret Weapon reared back to look at it in full, giving the top a light pat. "That's pretty cool."
"You can't have it," the little girl stated in clipped tones. He laughed.
"I don't want it, kid, don't worry." Zac looked around the kitchen. "So you got any snacks around here?"
"Just look around. I don't think Mommy will be angry if you take stuff," Annie answered easily, marching back to the living room with a bag of chips under her arm. He could hear the sounds of it tearing open, Lulu's delighted "Yay!" and Pix's buzzing. He could also hear the thump Amumu made when he tripped and spilled his milk.
He had to grin when he heard the bawling. It was just like a normal day back at the Institute. If only Twitch were here.
Lulu swept into the kitchen then, harrumphing as she went. He stifled a chuckle; the front of her robe was soaked.
"The nerve of some people!" She pushed the same stool Annie had been using over to the sink, clambering up on top of it.
"It was an accident, kid. Don't take it too hard," he told her.
"I don't have any clothes to change into," lamented Lulu, scrubbing at her robe to get out the milk residue. Her eyes wandered upwards to the flowers outside the window. "Eep!"
The next thing he knew, there was a yordle in his arms. When Lulu had scrambled up there he had no idea, but she had her face buried in his chest, hands clinging to his shoulders.
"Uh... Lulu?"
"Tulips," she whispered, clutching tighter.
"What?"
"Tulips, you sillyhead!" yelped the Fae Sorceress. "Don't look them in the eye!"
Not this again. Zac heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes. "I got this," he said, reaching over and pulling the curtains shut. "There. No tulips."
"Perfect!" she cried, springing out of his arms as if nothing had happened. "You know Mr. Zac, I always figured you were too tall, but you're all right after all."
"Um... Thanks, I think."
"It makes you perfect for fighting monsters, after all," she continued, as if he hadn't said a word. "Why, even if that nasty Cho'Gath took a bite out of you, you'd still stand a fighting chance!"
She noticed he wasn't paying attention and pouted, jabbing him in the thigh.
"Ow!"
"I'm serious!" she insisted, crossing her arms. "That's a big compliment, you know! Cho'Gath ate nine summoners the other day."
"He did what?"
"Don't you know why everything went boom at the Institute?" she asked, eyeing him disdainfully.
"As far as I knew, that crazy scarecrow and some freaks got loose," he replied, shrugging.
"Old stink-eye let Cho'Gath loose!" said Lulu. "Pix told me so!"
He had no idea who the heck "stink-eye" was, and he didn't really want to find out. Zac arched one disbelieving, nonexistent eyebrow at her. "Is that so?"
"And he went craaaaazy, and that's why all the buildings went down. Really!" The Fae Sorceress was bouncing on her heels by this point. "Pix never lies to me!"
Well, actually that was a little bit concerning. He'd known there was something huge going on at the Institute, but huge enough that the Terror of the Void got out? He was a lot more glad he'd gotten them out of there now than he was before. The mental image of one of them being crunched down on by that Void monstrosity was chilled his goo.
"You're not concerned at all?" he asked, looking at her curiously.
"About the big bad Cho'Gath?" Lulu smiled, almost mysteriously. "I'm not worried about him, but you might be."
He frowned. "Why's that?"
"Pix says he was heading north, you know? He could've been headed to Freljord, or Piltover, or..."
"Zaun," he finished, and if he had skin, Zac probably would have paled.
"Are you going back?" Somehow, he didn't really like her smile anymore. It just seemed... out of place. "Or are you staying here? Or are you going nowhere? Or everywhere?"
"Lulu, please. I need to - " He cut himself off, trying to think.
Should he go back to Zaun and make sure it was safe? Or stay here and look after the kiddies? On the one hand, he had to make sure his folks would be okay, and even if that place was a total rathole, he still considered Zaun his home. Someone had to look out for it – he doubted if any of the local nutjobs would. Twitch had probably run off there too, and if things got messy, the little guy could get hurt. On the other, he couldn't just leave the kiddies by themselves. Amumu was a walking accident machine, and Lulu was probably a bad influence on Annie. Not to mention, he didn't know if Annie could manage to not burn the house down without her parents around.
"I'm going back to Bandle City to visit a friend tomorrow," the Fae Sorceress informed him. So that was one out of the equation. "If you trust her with the dummy..."
Well. Maybe the nutjobs would go crazy on Cho'Gath anyway.
"I see your point," he conceded, sighing. Zac rubbed at his temples. "Although, I dunno how long I can handle this."
"Re-lax, I'm sure it'll all blow over in a week. Maybe two," she told him airily, waving a dismissive hand.
He could feel a migraine coming on, and he groaned, hands covering his face.
"For everyone's sake, I hope you're right."
.
.
.
Next Part: http://boards.na.leagueoflegends.com/en/c/fancreations/JchcuixX-fanfiction-fracture-chapter-9-2